Shadows of Memory
by CreatorsOfWorlds
Summary: Uchiha Izuna never planned to become a sensei, but fate has an odd way of planning these things for us.


_A/N - Firm headcanon: as Izuna was not enough of an idiot to die pointlessly on some unknown battlefield, he survived long enough to become Danzo's sensei for a short time.  
_

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_Disclaimer__ : I don't own 'em, I just love 'em._

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**_Shadows of Memory_**

**_o_**

_It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.  
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_- Frederick Douglass_

**_o_**

The boy was following him again.

Izuna tilted back his head and sighed, coming to a halt on the end of the pier. "What is it this time?" he asked, not bothering to turn his bandaged eyes in the direction the boy was hiding. "Have you gotten tired of chasing after Madara?"

There was a long pause and then a soft scuffling sound as the boy got up from where he'd been crouching behind a barrel, dusting his knees off. "How did you know I was there?"

"Your father's made a decent beginning at teaching you stealth, but you still need to learn to control your breathing," Izuna told him off-handedly. "I could hear you ever since I left the Tower. And -" he sniffed the air. "How long as it been since you had a bath?"

There was a pause and then the boy mumbled, "… a week."

"In the heat of summer. Next time your mother tells you that there's a good reason for you to keep clean, maybe you'll listen to her," Izuna said wryly. "Now tell me why an active boy like yourself felt that the best way to spend a summer afternoon was to follow an decrepit shinobi like myself?"

Another soft sound as the boy shuffled his feet, obviously trying to decide whether to tell the truth. "… I saw you fighting those men," he finally burst out.

"Which men?" Izuna asked innocently. He turned around then, so that he could get a look at the boy from behind the henged gauze over his eyes, and had to hide a smile. Shimura Hisoka's son was the spitting image of his father, from his unruly dark hair to his serious silvery-brown eyes. Right now he looked even more like his father because he was scowling in annoyance at Izuna's evasion.

"_You _know," he said. "The ones who tried to attack Madara-sama last night." A reverent pause, during which Izuna pretended not to notice the hesitation that had come after 'Madara' and before the hastily added honorific. "They never even got _near _him."

"Oh yes," Izuna said thoughtfully, as if just recalling the incident to mind. "I remember now. Oniisan was very upset."

Danzo looked confused. "W - Why was he upset?" he asked. "It was amazing! Nobody even noticed till it was over - except me 'cause I was following you," he finished in a low mutter.

Izuna smiled fondly at the boy. He had a certain soft spot in his heart for small, dark imps who crept after their elders and betters to spy on things they shouldn't; possibly because he had once been such a small imp himself. It was how he'd learned almost everything he now knew. "Well I suspect," he said lazily, tapping his cane against the barrel for show before he leaned his weight on it, "that oniisan felt emasculated because he wasn't able to show off in front of Hashirama. He has a terribly fragile ego at times. Now why would a few dead Kiri nin make you spend the better part of a beautiful afternoon chasing after me?"

Danzo was nothing if not blunt. "I want you to train me." A pause, and then, "Please," he added hastily.

Izuna raised an eyebrow. "Your parents and our new Academy aren't enough for you?"

"Mother and Father teach me some, but they're busy a lot," Danzo said. "And the Academy's so new that the teachers haven't figured it out yet. They don't have time for everybody." He stared up at Izuna, a small, stolid dark figure in the bright sunlight falling across the pier. "I want you to train me, Izuna-sama. Please. I'd work hard."

The boy's persistence was admirable, Izuna had to admit. And there was no doubt that he had potential. The odds were only fifty-fifty that he was spying for his father, and either way he would still benefit from the training. Not to mention the fact that there had been no hesitation after _his _name before the boy had added the honorific. The idea was beginning to look positively tempting. After all, Izuna would be willing to go to considerable trouble for the high and idealistic goal of inter-clan relationships that did not consist of the mutual desire to poison the other at the earliest opportunity - which was the whole point of the village they were founding, right?

He straightened lazily and tapped his cane thoughtfully against the pier. "I suppose I can give you a few minutes of time," he said, "though I can't promise more than that. Why don't you show me what you can do? Tai-jutsu, for example. Attack me."

Danzo's breathing sped up again in excited little spurts and Izuna made a mental note to fix _that _as soon as possible. "Y - yes," he stammered out, and then drew himself up, dipping his head forward into a bow and lowering his eyes respectfully.

Izuna mentally winced. _Oh, this younger generation._

His hand flashed out and roughly cuffed the boy hard enough that Danzo gave a surprised yelp as he looked up, clutching the side of his head. "What d'you think you're doing, boy?" he snapped. "I just told you to treat me as an opponent. _Never _lower your eyes to an enemy!" Leaning on his cane, he shook his head with a sigh. "Who taught you such an atrocious habit?"

"My mother," Danzo mumbled, his cheeks flaming red but his eyes now firmly on Izuna.

"Samurai stock," Izuna said irritably. "Only to be expected. You're a _shinobi,_ boy, and there's no reason for you to give your opponent such an outrageous advantage." He whipped his cane up and tapped Danzo firmly on the chest, sending the boy stumbling back a step or two. "Remember this and don't ever forget it. Don't behave like a samurai unless you want to die like one."

Danzo nodded.

"Now." Izuna lowered his cane again. "Attack me."

This time the boy kept his eyes carefully on the Uchiha as he moved forward, and Izuna smiled, leaning aside to avoid a too-hastily thrown punch and bringing down his cane with a sharp rap on Danzo's elbow. The boy bit back a gasp of pain and glared his determination, readying himself again.

When all was said and done, he supposed that there were _worse _ways to spend a beautiful afternoon.

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_Reviews would be loved.  
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